


Don't Worry

by StormWildcat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-War, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 13:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12212619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormWildcat/pseuds/StormWildcat
Summary: The Inquisitor and her small band are taking on Corypheus and the ones who love are left behind to wait...and worry.





	Don't Worry

**Author's Note:**

> Another dose of Dragon Age was needed! This is a my rendition of the ending of DA:I. I don't like the leave out either of the potential Trevelyans so after much Dragon Age discussion with my Cullen, we decided that Evie and Max could be cousins, so best of both worlds! Plus Neither Dorian nor Cullen have to be alone that way! Huzzah!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy my newest contribution to the Dragon Age fandom!

Worrying was just a part of Cullen’s work. Whether it be about peace talks, supply lines or the ever present threat of war, fret always accompanied the singe of bile that tended to build up in the back of his throat. This time was no different. Matter of fact, this time was far worse. An enemy the likes of which he had never seen set forth to destroy everything and the Inquisition was ready to intercept. Leading the charge was Evelyn “Evie” Trevelyan, their Inquisitor, the savior, the wielder of the anchor and the woman he loved. There was never a moment where the Commander felt absolutely perfect about sending anyone into battle, but when it was decided that Evie would be facing Corypheus head on, he could barely stomach it.

He wished from that council meeting to each second that passed from then forward that he could go in her stead. It wasn’t that he thought she was too weak, or that there was no hope. On the contrary, Cullen believed in Evie more than anyone he’d ever believed in before, and had yet to experience the burn of regret or betrayal. During his time as her advisor, he witnessed her grow from an unsure prisoner of wrong time, wrong place into the confident, strong leader their Inquisition so sorely needed. Fighting skills of the Trevelyans were always widely known, their penchant for the rogue arts second to none, but he always took the stories with a grain of salt, until he took her on one day during training. Though their bout ended in a stalemate, he knew she could kill most anyone she needed to.

Perhaps that was the day he started to fall for her.

Regardless, his affections for her had blossomed and now more than ever, it clouded his judgement and the knowledge of the necessities of war that were so deeply ingrained in him. Nothing would make him feel at ease as he paced back and forth, ignoring the smatterings of blood on his sword and shield. His own battles against the waves of demonic villains was won, but Evie was still out there with her small party, fighting for her life and the lives of everyone in the free world against an immortal madman and there was nothing else he could…but wait. Cullen Rutherford did not do waiting.

Thick gloves hid the shake of sword calloused hands as they combed through Cullen’s blond waves. Metal armor scraped against soft leather boots as irritation, helplessness and quiet panic boiled in his stomach. The surviving men of his army merely watched, unsure of what to offer their beloved Commander that could extinguish the agitation. Nothing came to mind. They were all worried for their Inquisitor and her comrades that they all admired and followed into battle, but not one of them could possibly imagine what it was like for the man who loved her.

Except one.

Cullen’s restless footsteps were halted as a hand clasped down onto his mantled shoulder. Amber eyes relieved to focus on reality flicked up to the only face that looked as strained with silent fear and sickly nerves as his own; Evie’s dear cousin Maxwell. “Max, have you heard anything?” the Commander questioned, brows knit tightly. There was a shimmer in his stare that broadcasted his desperation for news from the second Trevelyan rogue in the ranks, but it was quickly snuffed out.

“I’m sorry, Cullen. Nothing yet,” he answered painfully. Nervous silence welded the ex-Templar’s lips together and set his feet to move once more. Max spectated a few turns before speaking, “Come on, Cull. Let’s sit before you create a new ravine out here.”

 

“This isn’t a time for joking,” he hissed. “I can’t sit. Not while she’s out there, fighting that….that _thing_ ,” Cullen ground out between clenched teeth. Face pointed towards the broken blades of grass beneath his feet, Cullen rasped, “I should be there with her.”

Careful with his words, Max slowly approached, hand back on Cullen’s shoulder. He could feel the tension permeating the thick fur of his mantle. “I know. We both should be, but we were needed here.” The Commander’s line of sight rested back on the male Trevelyan. For a moment, they took unexpected comfort recalling the intense battle that had taken place against the evil spawn and lyrium-encrusted Templars only an hour or so before. Their sword, shield and daggers played a large part in their victory when coupled with the rest of the Inquisition’s strength. Without Cullen’s command and Max’s ability to infiltrate behind enemy lines to create openings…who knows how the battle could’ve gone. But now these two men both wracked by fear for the safety of others were fighting a very different fight, one that neither were well-equipped for.

Cullen sighed heavily and shot Max an apologetic look, “Apologies. I know this isn’t easy for you either.”

A wave of a hand calmly dismissed the gesture as unneeded. “It’s alright. I understand. Perhaps better than anyone else here.” A sadness crept into his words that didn’t go unnoticed by the Commander. Cullen mentally scolded himself. Yes he had every right to be upset and anxious, but so did Max. His family was facing down a foe more powerful than any they had battled before and he wasn’t there to watch her back. Yet as terrified as he was for her, Evie did not have all of Max’s heart.

Inquisitor Trevelyan chose a small party to face Corypheus consisting of some of their strongest, smartest and bravest. Cassandra Pentaghast offered the Seeker strength and tactical mind. Varric brought his trusty crossbow Bianca and sharp eye. Dorian Pavus came prepared with knowledge beyond his years and many magic spells up his sleeve. The mage was who with Evie shared her cousin’s heart and troubled thoughts. Like Cullen, Max had his heart slowly but surely captured by a charismatic, charming powerhouse with a wit and mouth to back up any debate. From the moment they met by chance in the Skyhold library, the pair only grew closer and closer until their lives completely entwined. But with the overwhelming risk of being ripped apart clawing at Max’s consciousness, he dreaded what bleakness the future could hold if the outcome of the fight was unfavorable. It was certain that if they failed, the war to come would see to the end of humanity as they knew it, but his pain, short-lived as it could be, would send him spiraling into darkness.

The apprehensive duo of men left behind by their loves took what little solace they could in each other’s company. Cullen continued his repetitive track. Max merely sat on a downed tree, the point of his dagger stripping and splitting bark as he tried to focus all of his anxieties into nonsensical carvings. Before another lap to slash could be completed, Leliana appeared on the forest trail that led to the front lines. “Commander! Trevelyan!”

Both men froze, only shifting to stare at the redhead as she approached. “Leliana, what is it? Has there been word?! Have they done it?!” Cullen barked, his grip finding slender shoulders as soon as they were within reach. Max rose and stood on the fallen tree trunk, fist balled around the hilt of his dagger. No words escaped him, but it was easy to tell he was praying to the Maker.

The spy’s fair features perked and a wider smile than Cullen had ever seen on his fellow advisor spread across her face. “Corypheus has been defeated. The Inquisitor and her party are victorious!” Matching grins materialized on Cullen and Max’s faces, splitting the sour looks that had plagued them for what felt like an eternity. Though Commander Rutherford’s faltered as he realized that certain information was absent from the report.

“And the Inquisitor? How is she?” Impatient amber glanced at the rogue nearby. “And the rest of the party? Did everyone make it?”

“You’ll be very happy to hear that all member of the group are still upright. Some took an injury or two that will need treatment, the Inquisitor included, but they’re all in good spirits and able to take breath.”

To say that relief washed over them would be a tragic understatement. Invisible weight dropped off shoulders and shifted off chests. Lungs could breathe and hearts could resume their usual beating patterns. Suddenly the rest of the world came into focus again and the two previously distraught men were very aware of their surroundings and the work to be done. Authority and life back in his vocal chords, Cullen turned to his men, not wanting to lose a single moment. “Pack it up! We need to follow the plan and get back to Skyhold! Take out any stragglers you may see but be careful! Let’s go! We have to get ready for our Inquisitor’s return!” With that, the camp sprung to action, Max and Cullen included, as they readied a triumphant return.

It felt like ages that they waited for the main hunting party to return. The army had managed to come back in what had to be record time and now all hands were on deck and intent on seeing their leader and some of her most trusted and powerful comrades return from the biggest battle of the modern day. A feast had been prepared, ordered and overseen by Josephine, who watched everyone who cooked, cleaned and set up like a hawk gone mad by hunger. Everything just had to be perfect and the endless to do list kept her from actually going crazy from waiting. Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for the rest of Skyhold.

Adrenaline from the clashes of steel and claw kept everyone on their toes as they stayed near the gates awaiting the Inquisitor’s party’s arrival. The incessant itch of yearning kept Cullen on his feet again. To his side, Leliana attempted to reassure him with soft promises and subtle distractions. No matter what she said though, his pace kept steady at the top of the grand stairs and his gaze rarely left the space between the ground and the towering wooden entrance. Among the crowd of restless soldiers, Max sat still, poking and digging at the ground with the pointy end.

Finally there was a row on the battlements and shouts stretched over the waiting crowd. Every person within the castle walls rose to their feet and all eyes turned to the gates. Huge wooden doors swung inward and revealed four brave, slightly battered souls, smiles and satisfaction on their faces. Hoots, hollers, whistles and cries of welcome and celebration exploded all around them as the party made their way through the parting sea of people. As they approached the bottom of the stairs, the Inquisitor turned to them and thanked them all with a solid nod and smile. There would be more words later, but not now.

Left behind, Dorian watched his best friend ascend, his wounds already forgotten by the overwhelming sensation of pride, accomplishment and relief from it all. His arms hung loosely at his sides, neither wanting to tense or strain for any reason. Until he felt a hand in his. Blue grey eyes turned and fell on the only face in the entire population of Skyhold he considered as handsome as his own…and Cullen’s. “Amatus,” he breathed, his voice sounding hoarse even among the boisterous crowd. Max’s smile warmed his very core. Those gorgeous eyes he had gazed into the night before looked pink and irritated. “Well it seems someone missed m-!” Before he could finish his little jab, his lips were silenced by the desperate, demanding press of Trevelyan’s. During the kiss, no one else existed in the world. The excitement swirling around them was snuffed out. All that mattered to them was the touch of the other, their scent, the heat of their breath on skin, the beat of their heart. They were lost to the rest, and would remain that way, even as Evie completed her trek up the stairs to her awaiting advisors.

Salutes greeted the Inquisitor, gestures she returned with mirroring and a smile. Bright teal met amber and a spark ignited within her despite protest from sore muscles and a collection of bruises, bumps, cuts and burns. She summoned what energy she could and glided across the stone landing until she was wrapped in the arms of her Commander. A kiss pressed to her forehead. How they both desired more, harder hugs, deep and lingering kisses, rough whispers of love and lust, skin on burning skin, but their true greeting would have to wait. The party of the century was about to begin and from then on, they had the rest of their lives to indulge and enjoy.

 


End file.
